


Screwdrivers, mistletoe, and another sleepless night

by fmpsimon



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Crush, Christmas, Christmas Party, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Office AU, Office Party, Romantic Comedy, Secret Crush, armin is a wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmpsimon/pseuds/fmpsimon
Summary: Jean hates company parties. The only positive is that he might have an opportunity to talk to Mikasa, the woman he's been watching from afar since he started working at the office. Maybe with a little liquid courage, he could work up the nerve to walk across the room and start a conversation.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	Screwdrivers, mistletoe, and another sleepless night

There she was. Across the room: red dress, red painted lips, a scarf cascading over her pale shoulders, her black hair loosely tied back, but her bangs still hanging in her face. As usual, he couldn't get himself to cross the room—his feet just wouldn't move. He reminded himself this wasn't any different than any other day. Sure, it was night and they weren't at the office, and they were wearing nicer clothes, drinking, eating, and laughing with their other coworkers—but that didn't mean anything between them was different. Then why couldn't he just work up the nerve to walk across the room and talk to her? The drink in his hand was cold to the touch. Maybe all he needed was a little more liquid courage. He grit his teeth and took another drink.

"Too sweet," he muttered under his breath.

"What is that, cranberry juice?" Jean glanced back as his blonde coworker stepped beside him. Armin. He was close to Mikasa. Jean wondered what their relationship really was: friends, or...something else? His brow furrowed and he decided not to think about that right now.

Jean frowned at him. "It's a screwdriver."

"Aren't those usually made with orange juice?" Armin said, scratching his cheek.

"They were out!" Jean snapped, perhaps a little more loudly than he had intended. He sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. "This was the best they could do." He took another drink, sucking air through his teeth. Was there any vodka in here at all, or was it just this sickeningly sweet, concentrated cranberry juice? Cranberry juice wasn’t even supposed to be sweet! The whole point of it was that it was sour—!

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Armin said, peering at him, clutching his own drink: a cup of tea. "You looked lonely over here by yourself." He brought the cup to his lips, and blew away the steam before gingerly taking a sip.

"Lonely?" Jean repeated, tasting the word. Had he read his mind? "I'm just thinking, questioning my entire existence up to this point." His tone was flat, his face expressionless.

Armin laughed, a sign of his discomfort, and it would have startled Jean had he not been lost in his own thoughts. "You're being dramatic again." He rubbed the back of his neck, then followed Jean's gaze across the room. "You should go talk to her."

Jean almost spit out his drink. He swallowed and flicked his eyes to the man standing next to him, wearing something between a smile and a grimace. "Wh-what are you talking about? Talk to who? I wasn't thinking about talking to anyone." He took another drink.

"Oh, sorry," Armin said, stepping in front of him. "I thought you were looking at Mikasa."

Jean let out a soft chuckle, trying to play it cool. "Why would I look at her?"

Armin smiled and it was hard to tell whether he was being smug or serene. "It's just, I've seen you looking at her a lot. Maybe you never have much of a reason to talk to her, but this is the perfect time. It's supposed to be a party, so you don't need to have a reason." He smiled wider.

Jean scowled. As usual, Armin was chipper and optimistic, always ready with a pep talk that no one asked for. "I haven't had enough to drink to buy any of that." He glanced behind Armin, but Mikasa was gone. His eyes widened and he scanned the room for that bright red dress, but…nothing. Had she left already?

"Armin." Jean almost jumped out of his skin when she appeared next to him. Everything inside his body was panicking at being this close to her, but he needed to relax; he needed to steady his heartbeat and his breathing—he could _not_ act like a spaz right now. Mikasa seemed completely unaware of his internal crisis as she spoke, soft and low, to Armin. "I'm ready to go."

"Already? But we haven't even had dinner," Armin said, wringing his hands and looking around the room. "I don't want to be rude."

"I don't care about that," Mikasa said, her tone flat. "I'm bored, and I spend every day with these people. Why should I waste any more of my time?" She folded her arms. "I could be at home watching TV."

"Why don't you take the opportunity to talk to someone you don't normally work with!" Armin said, glancing at Jean, who was dumbfounded by the whole conversation, gaping at them both in turn. "Like Jean, here! You don't normally work together, right?" Armin grabbed Jean's arm and pulled him into the fray.

"H-hi," Jean eked out, his face probably flushing—he had no idea; he felt like he was having an out-of-body experience and was not in control. He was floating, high on the feeling of anxiety and true bliss, mixed into one unholy emotion that he could neither understand or control. Mikasa, the goddess he'd watched from afar for so many months, was standing inches from him, making eye contact. Her lips parted slightly as she started to speak.

"Hi," Mikasa said. She stared at him and neither one of them said anything for a moment. "You're in Accounting, aren't you?"

"That's right," he replied. God, was he sweating? For fuck's sake, he needed to get a grip. He hoped she couldn't see the inner turmoil on his face. "And you're in Tech Support." He tried to smile, but he was certain his expression was more pained than anything. "I bet it's a lot of telling people to plug in their computers, right?" He laughed nervously, completely unaware that Armin had slipped away, leaving them alone.

She blew a puff of air, pushing her bangs away from her eyes. "I deal with idiots all day, yeah."

"Heh, same here," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "No one can manage to fill out their expense reports right. They always get the account numbers wrong. I mean, how hard is it to remember that taxis go to 'transportation' and not 'other expenses'?"

Mikasa eyed him and it felt like her eyes pierced his soul. She was measuring him up—he was sure of that—and he probably wasn't going to be up to snuff. After all, he sounded like a complete idiot right now, babbling about GL accounts like she gave a damn about that. He probably _was_ one of the idiots she had to deal with, he thought, as he racked his brain for the last time he'd had to contact her department for computer issues. He drained the rest of his drink and set it down on the table.

"Can I get you something?" he said abruptly. "I need more booze."

"I'm not drinking tonight," she said.

"Huh. I wouldn't be able to make it through this party if I didn't." He shoved his hands in his pockets and started off toward the bar. "Why did I say that?" he muttered. "She's gonna think I'm some drunk now." He let out a low sigh. That was probably fine. She had Armin, and she wanted to go home anyway. He wondered if they lived together. He frowned. No, Armin seemed too straight-laced to live with his partner. Either way, that was none of his business.

"I don't think that," came a voice beside him and he froze. She stopped too, looking at him. "You don't mind if I come with you, right? No one will hit on me if I'm with you."

He scratched the back of his head. "In theory, sure. But I doubt most people would think we're together or anything." His breath caught in his throat. "Uh, I mean, I didn't mean that we would ever _be_ together—obviously, we basically just met—we don't know anything about each other."

"Relax," she said, looping her arm through his. He stared at her with wide eyes. Relax? _Relax?!_ How could he possibly do that?! "Since Armin ran off, I don't trust anyone else to keep the wolves at bay."

Jean looked back only to finally discover that Armin had indeed disappeared. He turned back, furrowing his brow. "You don't know me at all," he murmured. "I could be a wolf too."

She smirked. "I'm a good judge of character. Besides, Armin wouldn't be friends with you if you were like them."

"Sir? Ma'am? What can I get you?"

Jean turned back to the bartender and quickly ordered. Thankfully, it was an open bar. "Don't make it so sweet this time." He handed her a bottle of water. "At least drink something." She accepted the water, but didn't say anything. They walked to the edge of the room and he leaned against the wall, sipping at his cranberry screwdriver.

"So, how do you know Armin?" he asked. He was finally starting to feel a little more comfortable. Maybe it was the alcohol kicking in, loosening him up. He rolled his shoulders back, noting that he _did_ feel less tense. "He seems pretty fond of you."

"We're old friends," she said. He waited for her to continue, but she said nothing. Was she hiding something? Was there more to it and she just didn't want to say? Were they sleeping together? He tried to read her face, but it revealed nothing.

"Are you dating?" he blurted out.

She slowly turned her head to look at him. He cringed. She was going to hit him or yell at him—either way, he knew he had said the wrong thing. But then she laughed. He blinked, unsure of how to react. "Armin and me? Dating?" She laughed again, clutching her middle. "He's like my brother. We've been friends since we were kids." She dipped her chin below her scarf, eyeing him, her cheeks the faintest shade of pink.

"Oh." He couldn't say any more than that at first—he was way too preoccupied with how cute she looked right now. He gulped, coming to his senses. "Um, I mean, that's good. He's a...he's a good guy."

"He is, even if he pushes me to do things I don't want to." She took a sip of her water, then frowned at the bottle, which was now stained red. "Stupid lipstick," she muttered. "This is why I don't ever bother." She grabbed her purse and started digging through it.

"Here," Jean said, handing her a handkerchief that he'd pulled from his pocket.

She stared at it and he remembered, to his horror, that it was embroidered with his mother's nickname for him, "Jeanbo", and a steaming apple pie. She took the handkerchief, her lips twitching, and wiped her lipstick off. "I'll wash it and return it to you on Monday."

"Don't worry about it," he said, his face still flushed. "You can keep it." _I’m about to die from embarrassment, anyway_.

She shook her head. "It's obviously very special to you. I can't keep it." She tucked it away in her purse. "I'll return it next week," she said firmly. She paused, bowing her head slightly, and her bangs fell in front of her eyes. "Gives me an excuse to come say hi." They made eye contact for a second before she averted her eyes, blushing.

"Oh, o-okay," he stammered. He looked down at his drink. Was this even real? Was he hallucinating? Was Mikasa _really_ saying that she wanted to talk to him—at work?! "H-hey, do you wanna...ditch?"

"Huh?" She looked at him, her lips pursed, her eyebrows knitting together.

He managed a smirk that he hoped was somewhat charming. "We both don't want to be here, right?" She nodded. "So, let's ditch."

Her lips twitched into a small smile. "Okay. Let's go."

They quietly made their way towards the door. Jean loosened his collar. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? They were just two people, walking towards the exit. Nothing special about that whatsoever. He was just reaching for the door handle when the door swung open in front of him.

"Hey! Where are you guys going?" Connie looked at them both in turn.

"Bathroom," Jean and Mikasa said at the same time. Mikasa's stony expression was much more convincing than Jean's flushed, panicked one, which screamed that he had just been caught red-handed.

Connie smirked. "Together?" He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to one side. “Kinky,” he muttered to Jean.

"What's wrong with you?" Jean said, starting to get anxious. "Just get out of the way."

Connie stepped aside, a playful smile on his lips. Jean glared at him and fought the urge to put his hand on Mikasa's back as they walked past. "Have fun, guys. Oh, and there's mistletoe, so I need a kiss from both of you." He pressed a finger to his cheek. "You can kiss me here. I'll let you off easy."

_Just die_. Jean glowered at him. Connie was going to pay for this on Monday. "Are you out of your mind right now?!" he whispered while Mikasa disappeared around the corner. He hoped she would wait for him.

"Hey," Connie said, catching his sleeve. "Are you guys hooking up?"

Jean straightened up to his full height, which was a good head taller than Connie. He frowned. "I need to take a piss." He gestured out into the hallway. "Looks like Mikasa already left, anyway." He wasn't sure how he was able to maintain his composure for that long, but it seemed that Connie bought it, so Jean was able to pass by him. When he finally got around the corner, he doubled over, clutching the fabric at his chest. He could only hope and pray at this point that Connie had had enough to drink to not remember that conversation come Monday morning.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Mikasa hadn't ditched him, and they quickly grabbed their coats and left the building. It was cold outside, cold enough to snow, he thought. He had taken the train to get to the party, but it had involved transferring at two stations. Still, it was cheaper than a taxi.

"Do you live nearby?" he asked.

"Not far," she said simply.

"I could walk you home...if you like," he said cautiously, trying to read her expression for any sign of consent or disapproval.

"You don't need to go out of your way," she said.

"I'm gonna have to take a cab, anyway," he said. "It's not a big deal." He clenched his fists deep in his coat pockets. "I would be uncomfortable leaving you to walk home alone."

"What a gentleman," she said, her tone sarcastic. "Don't bother. I can take care of myself. And I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't make eye contact. Mikasa definitely had a reputation for being tough, but he didn't think that extended to actual physical violence. "Do it as a favor to me, then. I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if I thought something had happened to you."

She sighed. "Fine. But I don't need protecting."

He smiled, but tried not to let her see it. They didn't speak much the rest of the walk back to her apartment, and he was fine with that—less chances for him to stay something idiotic. Just being next to her was enough for him. It was already a dream and probably the single-best night of his entire life.

"Thanks for walking me home," she said stiffly, one hand on the railing.

"Thanks for letting me."

She nodded, hiding her lips behind her scarf. "I guess I'll see you on Monday." She gave a small wave.

"Good night." He waved back. He turned and started walking back down the street, only to be pulled back by a hand on his coat.

"Jean, wait." He started to turn around, but she stopped him. "Can you just...close your eyes for a second?"

He was suddenly nervous and excited at the same time. "You're not gonna mug me, are you?" He hit his palm to his forehead. "Sorry, of course you're not. I don't know why I said that."

"Jean, just shut up and close your eyes," she said impatiently.

He nodded quickly, closing his eyes. "Okay. They're closed." He paused, waiting. "What's happening?"

He heard her breath right by his ear. She was so close. "Sometimes we do weird things when we're nervous.” He bit his lip; he couldn’t help it, this was really turning him on. “Don't read too much into this, okay?" Before he had time to ponder what that meant, he felt her lips press against his cheek, warm and soft.

He exhaled and opened his eyes slowly, but she was already gone. He raised his hand to his cheek and lightly brushed his fingers against his skin. There was no way he was going to sleep tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this please leave a comment and/or kudos! Also if you want to talk about anything, feel free to hit me up on [tumblr!](https://franniebanana.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I also recently created a [discord server for jeankasa.](https://discord.gg/eVC3xCHBTp) Come join us! (Also if the link doesn't work, let me know, because I've fucked it up before >_< )


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